Me and You (and Us)
by GoddessOfWater05
Summary: They've been through a lot together as friends, now they have to do the same as a married couple... piece of cake, right? Series of Japril drabbles.
1. Pregnant

**AN: **I think I've never been busier in my life and here I am... publishing another story (I have two unfinished Japril stories in my drafts). These drabbles will better for me, because they will not be that long (they're longer that my HP ones) and I could publish them "quickly". If you're kind enough, you can send me prompts! I'll try to do my best.

As always, leave a sign you were here!

(Shameless promotion, if you're on Tumblr, you can follow me at "marivaleria" ;D)

**Title: **Pregnant

**Word count: **442

**Pairing(s): **Japril (of course).

* * *

The way she yelled, gave him the little push he need it.

"Ok, that's it. You're pregnant".

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're pregnant", he said with a silly face.

"Jackson, if you're considering this… "talk" a form of foreplay, we need to have a conversation".

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not considering anything. I _know_ you're pregnant".

Her eyes widened.

"I do- don't know what you're ta- talking a-about", she stammered.

"You have been sleeping everywhere this past month. You also have been extremely moody these days…"

"Hey!" She smacked him.

"… my point exactly. You thrown up three different times this week and don't even get me started on your boobs!"

"Jackson! Don't be so crass!" She hit him again. "And you're wrong", she added in a matter of fact way. "Those symptoms are residue of the flu _you_ gave me!"

"Since when the flu gives you sore breasts, April? Because the way you just screamed when I touched you wasn't precisely an 'I'm-enjoying-sex-with-my-husband' kind of sound", he reprehended her.

"Well, that's because… Stop playing doctor on me!" She abruptly said.

"I'm not playing doctor on you. I'm being your husband that happens to be a doctor that _knows_ you're pregnant". He replied softly.

"JACKSON! Stop saying that. I'm not pregnant. I think I know my body", she laughed.

"You think you might know it, but I touch, and caress, and adore this body, your body, every single day… and I _know_ you're pregnant."

She got out of the bed.

"Arrrgh! You're so infuriating, Jackson Avery. You think you're right all the time. Well, newsflash, buddy, this time, you're _wrong_", April informed her husband from their bathroom door.

"Would you be willing to take a pregnancy test to prove me wrong?" He asked her smiling with those dimples of his.

"You're not going out to buy a pregnancy test at 2AM just to prove you're right…", she saw his expression and added quickly, "which you're not."

"That's why I brought a couple of tests from the hospital today", he replied smugly.

"Fine!" She almost yelled. "Give me the _damn_ test and you will know I'm not pregnant", she matched his smug smile with the certainty that someone has when they know they're right.

* * *

"I can't believe it".

"I told you".

"I can't believe it".

"You said that already".

"How come you're not gloating?"

"Because you're still in shock and that's no fun... I'll get to it later."

"Pregnant. We're pregnant, Jackson", she cried.

"Yes, we are", he smiled.

And then… she smacked him for like the fourth time that night.

"Why didn't you tell me before?!"

These were going to be the longest nine months ever.


	2. Believe

**AN:** I don't think next episode will go like this, but I couldn't go to bed without giving it a resolution. You might call me crazy; I call myself passionate (and crazy, too, xD). Spoilers (probably!) for 10x20.

As always, leave a sign you were here!

**Title: **Believe

**Word count: **275

**Pairing(s): **Japril.

* * *

"April, open the door."

Nothing.

"Fine. You want to go like this? Let's do it."

He sat by the bathroom's door, imagining what his wife was doing behind the closed door.

"We have known each other for more than 7 years, April. And I can't even believe that you still doubt how I feel about you."

Silence was still reigning in the apartment.

"Ok, maybe you're right. I might have made you to distrust me for a moment… or ten."

He heard a distant chuckle that kept him going.

"And a fight like this in the middle of deciding if we're having a baby or not might not be ideal; but, babe, I can't believe that our first big fight as a married couple is because of a misunderstanding. And that's what this is, a misunderstanding."

The door remained closed.

"You want to know what I believe is ridiculous? It's ridiculous that you believe that I don't respect your faith. That's what's ridiculous. Your faith is a part of you, is one of the things that molded the person you are today. Do I have to remind you? Even the things I don't like… I love. I really love."

The faint echo of a sob made him sigh.

"And just to make it clear… It's not that I don't like it; it's just that I was raised to believe in other things. Things you also believe in, too. And when you want to get out of that bathroom… I'll be here, waiting. Because if there is something I really have faith in… is us."

He fell asleep by the door waiting for it to open.


	3. Risks

**AN: **apparently, I don't know how to do angst. But given the show does so well, I say we have that covered. (Really, Shonda, REALLY?) Besides, I don't need more angst in my world when the love of my life since I was 7 years old got married last weekend and not to me. *cough* Nick Carter *cough*.

Also, when I thought of these drabbles, I didn't thought they would be _this_ connected... But oh well.

Thank you for the reviews, the favorites, the follows, the visits! It means the world to me.

Leave a sign you were here!

**Title: **Risks

**Word count: **218

**Pairing(s): **Japril (of course).

* * *

He wasn't a risk taker.

Maybe it was because he didn't like failure.

After all, he waited to tell his family he wanted to become a doctor _after_ he aced his MCAT's. And he didn't really define a specialty until Sloan took an interest on him, giving him the little push he needed; the encouragement he felt missing to demonstrate his talent.

In consequence, the thing he most regretted was that he didn't risk his pride for love on time.

He waited for April to tell him she wanted him, _him_ of all people, to respond to her that he was finally all in at the last-minute (yes, he knows timing it's not his forte).

He regretted playing safe for a while, because it took away time together with his wife and gave them sorrow instead. But he was ready -albeit, a bit late- for this. He completely felt capable of doing it.

Wasn't love the greatest gamble of all?

"So... are we really doing this?" He asked his wife with a grin.

She responded with a growl.

"Actually, I'M doing this. You were daydreaming or I don't wha-"

The other person in the room interrupted their bickering.

"Hi, sorry to break up your... _conversation_, but, April, it's time to push..."

Yeah, he felt ready for this "risk".


	4. Hope

**AN: **sorry for not getting this on time and me not being happy with it but I couldn't let this pass by without writing something.

**Happy 32nd birthday, soldier! **

**Title:** Hope

**Word Count:** 355

**Pairing (s):** Japril

* * *

Being alone on her 32nd birthday wasn't what she had wished.

To be fair, she wasn't alone-_alone_; she had Arizona, Callie, and even little Sofia. There even was a little improvised sing-a-long birthday (that ended in a "_feliz cumpleaños_" or something like that, thanks to Callie) in the kitchen that morning, courtesy of her friends and so she smiled like she really felt it, because she thought her friends deserved the gratitude after all the trouble she caused by staying with them.

Being kind of alone on her 32nd birthday wasn't what she had expected.

She passes through the E.R. and she is genuinely surprised when a string of nurses, and doctors, and hospital staff congratulate her on being alive for another year. She feels a bit guilty for feeling gloomy on her birthday when God had given her 365 more days on Earth; being healthy, with a secure job and happiness in most of those days. Maybe she'd pass by the hospital chapel before going (to Callie and Arizona's) home.

Being hopeful on her 32nd birthday wasn't something she planed.

Growing up, she always imagined herself well into her thirties with her M.D. title, happily married to an amazing man and maybe with a kid or two to complete the package. Later on, when no man took an interest on her, she pictured herself with many accomplished and successful projects on neuroscience or having a breakthrough on something that could change the future of humanity. In recent months, being separated of her husband (and for him not making an appearance on her birthday) wasn't something she thought possible.

That's why when she got to the attending's lounge to retrieve her things and saw a single red rose with them, her stomach jumped with a bit of expectation.

– Hey. – She heard from the door.

– Hi... – She retorted shyly when she heard _that_ voice.

– Happy Birthday. Sorry, I'm late… didn't know what to get you.

Yeah, she had imagined a lot of things for her 32nd birthday, but this one was the one that she hadn't expected, and didn't know it was the thing she most wanted.


	5. Contemplation

**AN: **hi... is there anybody alive after last night? Big episode, huh? (If anybody noticed... I'm trying to look cool. But if you follow me on Tumblr you'll probably know I'm poker-facing you BIG TIME). Help me God if Shonda does something to Not Hypothetical (my name for baby Japril).

I swear that when I wrote this on paper (paper, yes. I'm crazy like that) it was a short drabble. Don't know what happened when I typed into the computer (I do -Japril feels-, but let's leave it that way).

As always, PLEASE, leave a sign you were here. (And fangirl with me. _I have feels, a lot of them!_ *wink wink*)

**Title:** Contemplation

**Word count: **514

**Pairing(s): **Japril! (and little Not Hypothetical :D)

* * *

They both sat together on their kitchen stools, quietly contemplating their situation.

"I really wanted… my iPod was an excuse to-"she rambled.

"Oh, really? I didn't notice." He interrupted amused.

Silence took over the apartment again.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner, April?"

"We were_… are_ fighting… Jackson. Besides, I only found out yesterday, ok? I haven't had a lot of time to process it, let alone getting the nerve to tell you..."

"You should just have tried talking to me…"

"Yeah, 'cause that really worked the first time we went through this." She jabbed.

Jackson side-glanced her, but remained silent. Compromise and understanding, that's what they needed right now, and to try to not kill your spouse in the process, as hard as it was.

"You know… I didn't even get to buy you a shirt…" She started to lament.

He looked at her puzzled.

"… That would've had 'World's Greatest Dad' written on it, whilst I waited for your _happy_ reaction and now that's not possible, thanks to this freaking fight…"

"What?" He questioned, still out of the loop.

"That's how this would've gone! Me and you! Both planning to create the most beautiful and perfect thing… a mixture of us. And then, I, receiving you home with dinner, and when dessert time came… I'd served you that shirt, informing you in the cutest and cheesiest way… that our lives were changing." April finished while she wiped a few loose tears.

He gave her a softened smile, finally in understanding.

"And then, there are these stupid hormones… making me cry for and at everything!"

"Yeah, that will take a while to get used to." He retorted sarcastically.

"Idiot." She punched him lightly on his shoulder.

They both laughed, but sobered up quickly.

"This fixes nothing." She sadly commented.

"I know." He wisely responded. "But it changes everything."

They stayed quiet for it seemed hours.

"Stay." Jackson suggested. And before she started blabbering excuses, like he knew she without a doubt would, he added, "I'll sleep here on the couch. You take the bed. I will not take no for an answer."

She dubitative looked at him.

"I don't know…" She started to wander off.

"April." He sternly reprehended her; however, we he saw her face, kindly added, "Please."

"Fine…" She answered, still doubtful. "But at least let me look some pillows and a blanket for you, you'll freeze…" She rambled at the same time she walked to their linen closet (the one he didn't know he'd had until she moved in).

He caught her midway to the hallway.

"April?"

"What?" She turned back.

"One more thing, with all due respect to God… _We_ were the ones that made him… or her_. We_ made our baby, April."

"We did." She sheepishly smiled.

(She thought it wasn't the ideal moment to tell her husband, that their baby –_baby!_– was possible because of the grace of Him).

"And it's going to be awesome." He added while he lay on their couch.

It wasn't an instant reconciliation, but it was something to stand on, April reflected.


	6. All of them

**AN: **hi... someone here? Yes, I'm alive (I think), life just gets in the way of writing... so I hope you enjoy this drabble (a bit longer than usual as a way of apology). And as always, leave a sign you were here! Love you all!

**Title:** All of them

**Word count:** 724

**Pairing(s):** Japril, what else?

* * *

She's crazy. He knows.

The whole ride to Lake Tahoe he spends it between listening to half of her excited rants about how beautiful their life together would be and half of how scared she was for the repercussions of their actions. And feeling captivated by her capacity of talking a mile a minute, while still grasping the "_they"_ concept; the fact they were real, that they were finally on their way to _start_ -living- their lives together.

Even after being on the road for many hours, with dry tears and a falling hairdo, she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He happily told her that and in response, got a passionate laugh from her while calling him a liar. She then kissed him hard on an impulse and scolded him because he was not watching the road; he just smiled because he missed that, being dizzy with her madness... he wanted that for the rest of his life.

He's out of his mind (for her). She smiles.

After a simple, but beautiful ceremony; the one she always dreamed of (because it had the right groom in it), they went up to their –_gorgeous and expensive_\- honeymoon suite (as requested by him). She had begged for a shower since hour six (being a runaway bride was a sweaty job) and he was tactful enough to let her bathe alone, even when his –and hers- instincts were telling him otherwise.

She tried being throughout but prompt, so clad in only a towel she found him sitting on the bed, without his coat on, tie on his hand, shirt disheveled, hungry eyes, and grinning as a madman (since he heard her get out of the shower), she felt certain that God didn't hate her, because having this monumental sight in front of her didn't feel like a punishment at all; it was like somehow, she had finally done something right.

She's his worst distraction. She knows.

By the second week of marriage, he knew better to not bring work to home. Her singing voice as she showered or cooked was heavenly to listen to, however it was no help when he was trying to decide what budget belonged to what department. And maybe he wasn't the best administrator ever, but even he knew that giving all the foundation money to the trauma department was not a good move.

This time living together is different but the same at once: she still complained of wet towels on the floor and dirty dishes in the sink. Although this time, when he was watching the Celtics play, she cuddled in his lap falling asleep hastily, where he could count the freckles he missed seeing and touch the few scars she hated him mentioning. Game forgotten he loved getting lost in her perfect imperfections.

Even when he loses, he wins. (He has her).

They both thrived when they fought. He loved to see her all riled up and she fell into his game fast. Although he was quick with his words, she smart mouthed him even more rapidly. Of course, he wouldn't like it any other way. That was the reason he agreed to the entire secret marriage bubble thing, initially. And that was also the reason, when their eighteen day as a married couple comes by, he caved.

He started wearing his wedding ring at work (thing they previously agreed not to, until mutual consent) with the hope that someone would catch a glimpse of the physical reminder that he belonged to her… and finally their marriage would at last, be public. But she was quicker, finding him always first (the best findings being when they were close to an on-call room) so he listened to her and _momentarily_ respected her wishes.

So when he heard her agreeing to what their patient was telling her about how he should wear a ring, he couldn't help smiling (and agreeing). Therefore, when they got home that night, he told her how he didn't know how much he would like to wear his wedding ring while he called her "wife" a thousand times, things she didn't fight back, not for one minute. (That night she also won… thrice).

They were both showing hearts, at last... each giving all of them to the other.


	7. Grief

**AN: don't know if someone is reading, but if you're… **_**so sorry**_** for the lack of updates, life happens sometimes. (Or every day, xD).**

**I always like to be ready for the worst (shows-wise). So this is kind of an AU of what would happen if Little Not-Hypothetical doesn't make it (which he will. HE. **_**He is a he! **_**[Fangirl moment over]). Ay, Shonda… you had to mess with our babies' baby. **

**Also, I might or might not have paraphrased a line from Friends. I just love it. Hope you recognize it! **

**Title: **Grief

**Word count: **705

**Pairing: **Japril, please.

* * *

It was easier to disarm a rocking chair than arming it, of course. Finding tab A was much easier when it was already connected to slot B. And knowing what an Allen wrench did helped, too.

The task was completed without breaking sweat (or a tear).

He believed that in distressed moments he functioned better when he had something to do. Keeping his mind occupied worked like magic when his father left home and when his grandmother died. It also had done wonders in the aftermath of the shooting.

So when Karen, sweet Karen, shaking, offered through tears to take care of the apartment stuff with the help of Joe, he was quick to refuse the help (in a kind way, he hoped). And when Catherine offered to hire people to do the same, he went on and perorated about how they –_he_ – didn't need help. How he was a well-functioning adult and could see for his family, his _wife_ by himself. It was something he needed to do and no one else, not even April… _especially_ not even April.

If his mother was bothered by his cheek, he didn't notice. Lately, he was being treated by everyone with silk gloves which, honestly, was getting exasperating. He wanted to pick a fight with whoever would bite off his bait. He was mad at the world, at himself. And it also coincided that the only person he wasn't mad at… wasn't utterly talkative.

Calmly he put away the different parts of the chair on its original box and sealed it with duct tape. It was the last piece of furniture standing in a bedroom he could no longer bear to see. The bedroom that had once contained so many expectations, hope and dreams, now was much dreaded by him and his wife, both.

They feared to face the would-be-bedroom of their little boy… his little man; the son that didn't get to be a boy or a man, for that matter. A boy… he _was_ a boy, his son. He found that talking about their baby in past sentence when he didn't get to have a present was completely incongruent.

They had lost him before they actually had him.

April's family was great (so was his mom, unbelievably so). He really liked his in-laws. Karen was lovely. Joe was very welcoming (in spite of the whole interrupting-his-daughter-wedding-and-then-no-being-present-for-the-real-deal thing). And even though his sisters-in-law were crazy, he knew they always meant well. But if he heard them say one more time: "it was God's Will", "God wanted it this way" or his favorite "God called him to His side" he was going to explode.

It was even almost sardonic the way God played a part in his life, _especially_ when he didn't ask for it; nor believed in Him.

Who was this guy that supposedly had the right to decide on someone else's life? Not even they, _doctors_, in their highest of highs, had the right to decide who lived and who didn't.

If he believed in his wife's God, which he did not, he would tell Him, how he would have understood if this was a punishment for _his_ behavior, for _his_ non-believing. But the thing was… _he_ didn't believe, his wife did; and she didn't deserve any punishment at all. April was the lightest thing in his life.

She wasn't a bad person. She read the bible. She followed every rule she had to follow. The only mishap she had on the road… was him. But still, they mended it as soon as he got his head out of his ass. And in spite of it all, she was a good Christian. He was sure, she wasn't deserving of the ripping pain that parted souls in more ways than one. No one should.

"Jackson, where are you?" he heard his wife's voice ask from the apartment's entrance.

He looked around the empty room for a last revision.

"I'll be right out. I'm in the… spare bedroom." He managed to answer.

He would have learned how to be a father along the way, but April? His wife was already a mother, without a son.

And that, in the science or religious world, wasn't fair... at all.


End file.
